remove all doubt
by PuzzledHats
Summary: When a group of Oliver's former flames decide to spill the illicit details of his private life, Felicity cleans up the mess but not before her babbling inadvertently lays down a challenge.
1. Chapter 1

"Felicity Smoak! Is that you?!"

Felicity cringed at the unfortunately recognizable voice, turning slowly to come face-to-face with Abigail James. Felicity knew it had been a bad idea to come to Starbucks. The lines were always too long, the coffee never as good as the corner shop and she always ran into someone she would rather avoid. She cursed herself for having stopped to read the headline of the newspaper before leaving, it would have been just enough time to to miss them completely.

"Hi, Abigail," Felicity said, forcing a smile. "It has been a while. How have you been?"

"It has been way too long. I miss my Felicity," Abigail pouted, throwing her arms around Felicity as if she had permission.

"Felicity," came a much cooler voice. Felicity barely managed to contain a groan as Stephanie Moore stepped foreword, her customary condescending smile firmly in place.

"Hi, Stephanie," Felicity said tightly, taking a step back.

"It's so great to see you," Stephanie demurred, not realizing she failed entirely at it.

"What have you guys been up to?" Felicity asked, in order to avoid returning the false sentiment.

"We were invited to a gala last night to restore the Glades. Stephanie's firm donated, so we got to go," Abigail chirped merrily, before leaning in a little closer, a conspiratorial look on her face, the same one she always wore right before revealing her biggest piece of gossip. "Oliver Queen was there."

"Oh-" Felicity began, already knowing, but Abigail cut her off.

"And he took quite a liking to Stephanie," Abigail finished, turning to share a triumphant look with Stephanie.

"Oh," Felicity said, unimpressed. "That's nice, I guess."

Clearly not getting the reaction she'd wanted, Stephanie moved forward into Felicity's personal space, looking down on her from her towering heels, "Normally, I don't kiss and tell, but since we're old friends. The stories about Oliver Queen's prowess in the bedroom have not been exaggerated."

"She spent the night with him," Abigail whispered, as if that hadn't been perfectly clear from Stephanie's tone and words.

Felicity couldn't help it. She laughed out loud, barely keeping stopping it from turning into an all out laugh attack. Thinking she was giggling at the idea of Stephanie and Oliver, the two girls before her exchanged look of triumph.

"Felicity."

All three women turned as one to see Oliver Queen standing before them. He wore casual clothes, looking completely at ease in his skin. He was staring at Felicity, oblivious to the women next to her.

"I thought you were having brunch with your mother," Felicity said, confused to see him there.

"She cancelled. Thought I would track you down. I have something to show you," he said with a shrug.

"How'd you find me?" Felicity asked, knowing this wasn't her usual haunt. He only raised an eyebrow at her as he smiled knowingly, telling her with unspoken words that he had tracked the GPS on her phone. She rolled her eyes at him.

"Sorry," he lied, unable to contain his own smile. Beside her, Abigail let out a little giggle, drawing their attention. There wasn't a trace of recognition on his face as he smiled his polite 'Oliver Queen' smile at the women he must have just realized were standing close enough to her to make them acquaintances. Felicity couldn't wipe the smile from her face as he stepped forward, hand out stretched, "Hi, I'm Oliver."

Abigail squeaked out a greeting as Oliver grasped her hand in a brief handshake before turning to Stephanie with the same outstretched hand. Stephanie's face was stiff, her eyes pinched together while she tried to maintain a smile.

"Actually, we met last night," Stephanie tried to purr, but her desperation to save face leaked through. "At the gala."

"Oh, right," Oliver said, throwing a quick look at Felicity for help.

"Stephanie," Felicity supplied, grinning from ear to ear. "And Abigail."

"Right," Oliver nodded as if he had known all along. "Stephanie and Abigail. Hope you had fun at the party."

"We did!" Abigail piped up with an adoring smile on her face, her brain clearly not processing what the exchange meant.

"Wonderful," Oliver said, before turning to Felicity. "Sorry to interrupt coffee with your friends."

"You weren't interrupting," Felicity laughed. "Let's go see whatever it was you wanted to show me."

His gaze was quizzical but he didn't question her.

"It was nice seeing you two again," Felicity said, grabbing Oliver's arm to pull him toward the door. Oliver fell into step beside her, pulling the door open for her as they approached. She stopped short, staring at him. Smiling, she held up a finger to say 'hold on' as she turned back, "I forgot something."

Stephanie was in the same spot, watching them, ignoring the chattering Abigail beside her. A single eyebrow raised as Felicity approached them.

"You're right," Felicity said, leaning in toward them. "The stories haven't been exaggerated. I would know, he was with me last night."

And with one final smile of victory she turned on her heel, pulling Oliver through the door with her. Not wanting to give up the ruse in case they were watching through the windows, she pulled Oliver's arm around her shoulder while wrapping her arm around his waist, pulling herself into his side.

"I'll explain later," Felicity answered Oliver's confused eyebrows, putting slight pressure on his hip to keep him moving.

"Alright," Oliver said, tightening his grip on her shoulder. "I take it those weren't friends of yours."

"Noooo," Felicity intoned. "And one of them claimed to have slept with you last night.

Next to her Oliver laughed, "They chose the wrong person to lie to about me."

"Yeah, no kidding," Felicity scoffed

"What stories?"

"Huh?" Felicity asked back, lost.

"You said 'the stories haven't been exaggerated.' What stories?"

"Oh," Felicity said, laughing a little, she hadn't realized he'd heard her. "I meant to tell you, but didn't really know how. I mean, it's not an easy conversation to have with your friend, let alone your boss and resident vigilante—"

"Felicity," Oliver said, squeezing her shoulder to stop her ramblings. "Just tell me."

"There's a site," Felicity confessed, an apologetic smile on her face. "About you. About you before and after the island. About your various love affairs."

He kept walking, giving her his best 'not amused' face, waiting for her to explain further.

"I have a program that monitors the internet daily for any information about you or the Arrow," Felicity explained. "A couple of months ago, this site popped up. It's a very detailed account of your love life. Like crazy detailed. They never did manage to get hold of the Isabel story, but that could be due to it happening in Russia. Although, maybe—"

"Felicity," Oliver said again, pushing her back on track.

"Right," she nodded. "So the site keeps a close eye on your relationship status and has records of all your past relationships. Several pages are dedicated to Laurel. The site also has an option to review you."

He stopped beside her, grabbing her arm before she could take another step, his eyebrows drawn together. "What?"

"Uh, yeah," Felicity stuttered, remembering why she hadn't wanted to tell him this in the first place. "They review you, you know, your performance. Your sexual performance."

"Why haven't you taken it down?" he growled when she trailed off.

"Well, I was going to." She shrugged. "But the reviews were all pretty good; like mostly 10 out of 10 good. And I figured your PR people would have it taken down if it was really bad."

He let out an exasperated sigh, grabbing her arm to pull her forward. "I want you to take it down."

"Fine," she mumbled as they turned the corner and his car came into view. He released her arm so they could slide into the sports car. She quickly buckled her seatbelt, turning to ask him where they were going when she found he was frozen, his hand halfway to the ignition. His eyes were unfocused, she called his name, wondering what was going on.

"You read them?" he asked, turning to her slowly, his expression unreadable. "You read the reviews about me?"

"More like skim read," she whispered, leaning away from him slightly. "I wanted to make sure there wasn't anything too bad in there."

"Mostly 10 out of 10?"

"What?"

"You said 'mostly 10 for 10.' Were there bad reviews?"

"Well," she said, looking down at her lap as her face blushed. "There was one review that gave you 2 out 10, but I'm pretty sure that was because you didn't call her again. And also…"

"Also, what? Felicity…"

"Also, she claimed you were a little selfish in the bedroom."

"What did the 10 out of 10 ones say?" His tone caught her off guard, drawing her attention. He was smiling down at her in a way that had all the various reviews about him in the bedroom cycling through her mind in quick succession.

As the site gained popularity, more former flames came forward to tell their tales. They were mostly pre-island Oliver stories; stories of sex in bathrooms, classrooms and various vehicles. Each story going into to lurid detail about the way Oliver Queen went about things. She had made an effort to avoid thinking about it during the day in his presence. But that didn't stop her from having a couple of very vivid dreams.

Oliver's chuckle brought her out of her thought loop. She blinked, realizing her mouth had been hanging open. He was still laughing when he started the car, pulling out onto the street with a glance over his shoulder.

"I was taking down that gang in the Glades last night after the gala," Oliver said, eyes on the road.

"I know," Felicity answered, confused.

"But your friends back at the coffee shop don't know that."

"I know."

"That means you led them to believe you and I were together last night in _non-platonic circumstances_," he said with a smirk, emphasizing the last couple of words.

"I'm not going to apologize for that," Felicity said with a jab of her finger. "They lied first. Plus Stephanie stole my boyfriend in the eighth grade and I just wanted to beat her at something. Everyone at QC already thinks we're sleeping together. What do a couple more people matter?"

His face sobered when she mentioned her reputation at QC, his grip on the steering wheel tightening slightly. He drove on in silence.


	2. Chapter 2

"Take that site down," he said, pointing to her blank screens as they descended the stairs into the basement of Verdant. "And when you're done with that, will you please help me go through these files Lance sent over?"

Nodding, she glanced at the stack of files sitting on the table in the middle of the room, mentally calculating how long it would take her to scan them in. The newly re-instated Detective Lance had asked for their help on a new drug that had hit the streets. The components of the drug turned out to be a less potent version of vertigo. The SCPD hadn't had any luck so far in tracking down the copycat Count.

But before she dove into that, she walked to her computers, powering them up. Not messing around she pulled up a browser, entering in the all too familiar domain name in the address bar.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, as the site loaded, moving her cursor to click on the link without thinking.

"What? What is it?" Oliver said, rushing back toward her. As quickly as she could, she minimized the browser before he could see what was displayed.

"Nothing, nothing." She tried to smile, but Oliver's expression told her she failed. "It's nothing. Really. Go back to doing…whatever it is that you were doing.

"Felicity," he ground out. Knowing resistance was futile, she sighed as she pulled up the site again. Oliver leaned over her shoulder as they both read.

* * *

**Oliver Queen's Top Five Sex Moves**  
_(as compiled from our numerous reviews)_

**1. Shoulder touching —** Listen up girls, if there is one thing our reviewers can agree on, it's that Oliver Queen has a thing for shoulders. His patented move is to place his hand on your shoulder while leaning in closer as he slowly brushes his hand down your arm until he has the perfect leverage he needs to pull you in for a kiss. Our studies show it's 100% effective.

**2. His body —** How can his body be a sex move? Excuse you, have you seen that thing? Especially post-island, that body is enough to make even the most sedated of women (and men) excited. Apparently Oliver uses it to his advantage. Knowing no woman can hold on to her sanity when pressed again those abs. And let's be real, this latest shot of him jogging through Starling City shirtless should be proof enough. Hello, Mr. Queen.

**3. His mouth —** 8 out of 10 reviews mentions that Oliver Queen knows what to do with his mouth. Even Oliver's casual make-out partners have nothing but good things to say about that tongue of his. And while tales of him going down on women are rare, the ones that exist are also hot as fuck. Need I remind you of what user FreeOliver said: "It was more than just his tongue. He ate me out with his whole mouth: teeth, lips and tongue. I can't remember ever coming so hard, so fast or so often." Hot damn!

**4. His hands —** Oliver's hands have acquired legendary status here in Starling City. Because by all accounts, that man knows how to use them. His skill at simultaneously pounding into a girl, while his hands work to bring her off have all of us frothing at the bit. I don't know about you all, but anytime I see a picture of him, those hands are all I can stare at. (Well, and his face. Have you seen that man's face?)

**5. His stamina —** Many a reviewer has felt the need to let us in on the little gem, which is that Oliver can go and go and go. Often times those enjoying his company report being very tired the next day because that man doesn't seem to quit. And Ladies, don't we all want a man that can keep up with us?

**Honorable mention:** His dick — How could we not mention it? Because while it's not necessarily a sex move, it has been reported as being very impressive time and time again. I don't know about you all, but to me, that is a sex move in and of itself.

* * *

Felicity leaned back, feeling slightly flushed. One of Oliver's hands rested on her chair, near her shoulder. The other gripped the edge of her desk as he continued to read. She couldn't stop staring at his hand; thinking about how long his fingers were, how big his hands were in general.

"Felicity!" Oliver nearly shouted, causing her to jump. His expression told her she had been caught staring at his hand. "Take that site down. Now."

"Yeah, yep, yeah," she said, sitting up straight as she went about taking down the site. She almost sighed when he moved away from her, his proximity distracting.

Fifteen minutes later the site was down. Twenty minutes after that the server that had hosted the site had been wiped clean completely.

"It's done," she sighed. "No, one will ever know your 'Top 5 sex moves.' Unless of course, they do have sex with you. In which case, they might get first hand knowledge of your sex moves. But—"

"Felicity," Oliver interrupted. She turned in her chair to see him going through the case files Quentin Lance had sent over.

Jumping to her feet, she joined him. Taking each stack he had meticulously made, she began to scan the files, making sure each was marked and tagged accordingly. They worked in silence. Oliver reading through the files, determining where they should go; Felicity scanning them, making them easily accessible for her programs to search for any patterns they had missed. The work was pretty mindless, allowing her mind to wander.

"You know, I don't get the shoulder thing," Felicity said, her eyes fixed on the screen before her as she entered another page into the database they were compiling.

"What?" Oliver asked, distracted. She glanced over to see his eyes were fixed on the file before him. She moved back to the table, grabbing the next file, sorting through the documents inside as she began the process of scanning them.

"The shoulder thing, you know, as a 'sex move'. It just doesn't make sense," she rambled, her hands occupied with the task in front of her. "I mean, how can touching someone's shoulder be considered a 'sex move.' A pre-curser to a 'sex move?' Maybe. But, you've touched me on the shoulder plenty of times. It never made me want to jump you then and there."

She turned her back on the table, looking up at the screen before her as the files loaded, her hands moving over the keyboard as she filed them accordingly. Oblivious to the complete and total silence in the room, she continued speaking.

"And sure, your body is great. Like greek god, give Adonis a run for his money, great. But how on earth can that be considered a 'sex move?' I don't think 'sex move' is the correct term for that. Really shouldn't that list have been titled 'Oliver Queen's Top 5 Ways To Turn You On?' That would be a much more apt name for the list. Although the honorable mention—"

Turning around, she paused mid sentence. Oliver was standing on the other side of the table, a forgotten file in his hands as he stared at her. His mouth was hanging open slightly, like he had been about to interrupt her ramblings with one of his patented 'Felicity's' but had been too shocked by what she was saying to speak.

"Sorry," she winced, closing her eyes as she mentally counted down from three. When she opened them again, Oliver had returned to pursuing the file in his hand. Relieved he had once again ignored one of her outbursts, she went back to work; neither of them speaking.

An hour later she hit enter as the last of the files were uploaded to their server, her custom application already combing through the database for anything they had missed.

"Done," she yelled over her shoulder to where Oliver had been doing the salmon ladder while she finished up.

"Good," he said, causing her to jump. She hadn't known he was behind her, walking into view as he patted his sweaty body with a towel. "Thank you."

"No problem," she said, powering down her computers and resisting the urge to stare at his abs. Standing up, she decided it was time to go home, maybe have a cold shower. Gathering her things, she turned to say good-bye, relieved that he had put on a shirt. "I'll see you tomorrow at the office."

"Felicity," he called after her, stopping her at the foot of the stairs. She turned to see him slowly walking toward her, an unknown expression on his face.

"Yeah?" she answered, as he got closer but still didn't say anything. Once he was in front of her, he reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, his eyes intent on hers.

"I just wanted to say thank you for all the work you did today," he said, but as he spoke his hand left her shoulder, slowly grazing down her arm giving her goosebumps. Her lips fell open as he leaned in closer, transfixed by the way his eyes had moved to her mouth. Then his hand skimmed over the back of her hand, as he somehow leaned in even further.

She almost closed her eyes in anticipation, but then he stepped back, a huge grin on his face.

"Have a good evening," he said, as if nothing was out of place.

Absently Felicity nodded, turning to practically run up the stairs. At the top, she turned to see him at the bottom of the steps, arms crossed, leaning against the railing. He was smirking up at her, his expression one she had seen often. It was the same half smile he wore when he was feeling triumphant about a breakthrough on a case; leaving Felicity a little off balance as she pulled open the door.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N - Wow, thanks for all the reviews and what not! I know this story is a little...out there and I wasn't sure I would be able to convince anyone to go with me on it :) So thank you! Hopefully you'll like what is next!**

* * *

**2. His body —** How can his body be a sex move? Excuse you, have you seen that thing? Especially post-island, that body is enough to make even the most sedated of women (and men) excited. Apparently Oliver uses it to his advantage. Knowing no woman can hold on to her sanity when pressed again those abs. And let's be real, this latest shot of him jogging through Starling City shirtless should be proof enough. _Hello, Mr. Queen._

* * *

The black tie fundraiser was full of Starling City's elite. The event was being held at the city's most exclusive hotel, around their rooftop pool deck. The light from the pool gave the party an almost dreamlike quality as the guests milled around it. Felicity longed to slip off to the side and enjoy the view of the entire city, but instead was forced to stand next to Oliver, reminding him which potential investors he was supposed to be speaking to.

"Just another half hour," Oliver said to her as an old friend of his father's walked away from them, leaving them at the edge of the pool.

"Sure," she said in disbelief, as they both took a step back to let a waiter carrying a tray of full champagne flutes by them. Oliver snagged two, handing one to her. "Thanks."

Taking a healthy sip, she turned her back on the party, pretending to be interested in the pool in front of them. In truth she was bored out of her mind.

"Oh no," she heard Oliver mutter beside her. She looked up right as he turned to face her, panicked. "It's Gail."

Felicity peered around his shoulder to see an attractive brunette making their way toward them with a determined look on her face. She glanced back up at Oliver, ready to laugh at him for being scared of one tiny woman, but he cut her off.

"We have to get out of here," he said grabbing her arm, pulling her behind him. She stumbled at the speed, her shoes getting caught in her dress. She tried to pull it free, hearing a rip as Oliver continued to pull her ahead, not noticing her trouble. She tripped again, her momentum building as she ran in to Oliver's back, pushing him into the pool.

Horrified, Felicity gasped as he resurfaced. The entire party crowded around the pool, some laughing, others making jokes. Oliver smiled jovially at the crowd, only pausing for half a second to level a glare at Felicity. She backed away through the people, meeting him at the steps out of the pool.

"I'm sorry," she said, as he stepped from the pool, shaking off the excess water. He opened his mouth to reply, but shut it again quickly when his eyes locked on something over her shoulder.

"That's a good look on you, Oliver," came a sultry voice from behind her. Felicity turned to see Gail, the woman Oliver had been running from. She sauntered forward, her gaze on Oliver's now transparent white dress shirt. "Want some help Fcleaning up?"

"No, thank you. I think, we've got it covered," Oliver said, grabbing Felicity's arm, pulling her with him. He dragged her into the building, checking each door they came to before finally pushing her into one of them.

As the light flickered on, Felicity realized they were in a small storage room. The shelves around them were stacked with white pool towels. Grabbing a handful she turned back to Oliver, holding them out as a peace offering.

"Sorry," she said, watching as he slowly peeled his now ruined suit jacket from his shoulders. "My heel got caught on my dress, I tripped."

He grunted a response, grabbing the towels from her as he dropped his jacket in a wet pile on the tiled floor.

"Who was that woman?" she asked, as he pulled his shirt from his pants, beginning to slowly unbutton it.

"Gail Stone," Oliver grunted. "Ever since that article came out, she has been very persistent. I wouldn't have come tonight if I knew she was attending."

Felicity resisted the urge to laugh. While she had made sure to take down the website chronicling Oliver's love life, she hadn't managed to stop the spread of the the article depicting Oliver's best sex moves. It had gone viral and nothing Felicity did seemed to slow it down. Even the local news had picked it up. From the way most of Starling City now looked at Oliver, Felicity had to guess that everyone had read it. Diggle had taken an absurd amount of pleasure in making fun of Oliver for it over the last couple of days and had even admonished Felicity for having not told him about the site sooner.

"Well look on the bright side. I mean, at least it was your five best sex moves. Not your five worst. Can you imagine?" Oliver froze in the midst of taking off his shirt, staring at her. "Not that you have bad sex moves. I'm sure all your sex moves are top notch, really. It's just at least it was good—"

"Felicity," he said, effectively ending her ramble as he wrung out his shirt, before laying it flat on a stack of towels on the shelf to his side. He grabbed another towel, drying his hair before moving to his torso. "Have those programs you've been running come up with anything about the copycat Count?"

Felicity shook her head, unable to look away from where the towel skimmed over his body. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a rational side of her was trying to tell her that she should be over this by now. She saw him half naked more than she saw him clothed, after all. But the article had seemed to re-ignite something in her brain. And she found it increasingly difficult to look away. Although, in her defense, she didn't often see him this wet, droplets of water finding delicious pathways over the muscles of his chest and stomach.

Focused on his abs, she didn't notice him move closer to her, not until he said her name quietly, barely above a whisper. Blinking, she tore her eyes from his chest, now mere inches from her. She looked up to see him looking down at her, a corner of his mouth quirked up into a smile. She took a halting step back, bumping against the shelf of towels behind her.

"Oliv—" his name died on her lips as his hand landed on her shoulder. She glanced up to see he wasn't looking at her, his eyes focused on something behind her. Holding her breath, she watched as he slowly leaned in, his hand on her shoulder trailing down her arm. His eyebrows were knit together in confusion at a fixed point behind her left shoulder.

When his hand reached the inside of her elbow, she let out the tiniest of hums. Her eyes slammed shut, horrified. He was so close, every breath she took bringing her breasts up against his sculpted, naked torso.

"Shhh," he hushed in her ear, causing a shiver to run down her spine. The hand that had been trailing down her arm now reached her hand; threading his fingers with hers, he pulled her forward into his body. Her traitorous free hand reached up to rest on his stomach; she could feel the hard ridges of his muscles beneath her fingers. She let out a low, shaky breath as she tried to stay grounded. The stubble of his chin scraped over her cheek as he moved his mouth to hover above her ear. When he spoke, his voice was a low, guttural whisper. "I think someone's watching."

A sense of unease trickled down her spine as she moved her hand to grip his hip tightly; telling herself she did it because she was worried, not because her knees were going weak. He squeezed the hand he held, his other arm bumping into her shoulder as he messed with something on the shelf behind her.

She refused to open her eyes, because she wasn't sure she'd be able to control herself if she looked at his bare collarbone or his long neck, both just waiting to be kissed, sucked, marked. The mere idea had her screwing her eyes closed even tighter, her grip on his hip clenching even further.

"False alarm," he said in his normal voice, she jumped at the volume of it. He gave her hand one final squeeze before stepping back, leaving a void. Her own hands dropped lamely to her side, yet she couldn't seem to force her eyes open. "Felicity?"

His soft tone was all she needed. Her eyes flew open, she pulled back until she hit the shelf behind her again. Oliver tilted his head, concern written on his face.

"It was just a false alarm," he said in his most reassuring tone, gesturing to the wall behind her head. "It was an air freshener, not a camera."

She nodded, pretending that was the reason she had frozen. Forcing herself to swallow a couple of times, she thought she caught him grinning as he turned his back to her and shrugged back into the wet dress shirt. Shaking her head, she swooped down to grab his jacket from the floor, wringing it out to distract herself from the fact that the shirt was still mind numbingly see-through.


	4. Chapter 4

**3. His mouth —** 8 out of 10 reviews mentions that Oliver Queen knows what to do with his mouth. Even Oliver's casual make-out partners have nothing but good things to say about that tongue of his. And while tales of him going down on women are rare, the ones that exist are also hot as fuck. Need I remind you of what user FreeOliver said: "It was more than just his tongue. He ate me out with his whole mouth: teeth, lips and tongue. I can't remember ever coming so hard, so fast or so often." _Hot damn!_

* * *

"Still no sign of him," Diggle said through their comms. Felicity uncrossed her legs, the angle changing her position just enough so she could see Diggle sitting on a park bench on the other side of the busy walkway. His sunglasses, t-shirt and relaxed figure made him look like any other citizen of Starling enjoying the unseasonably warm day.

Felicity glanced down at the book in front of her, trying to maintain her cover. She sat among a clustered group of picnic tables, all of them full of people laughing, talking and barbecuing. Her surreptitious glance around revealed none of them to be their target. She looked back down at her book, adjusting the strap of her sundress as she waited.

"Here," came Oliver's voice both in front of her and on the comm. Looking up, she saw both his hands held ice cream cones. He offered both to her with a shrug. "Chocolate or Vanilla?"

"Thanks," she said, reaching for the vanilla one. Nodding, he slid onto the bench opposite her.

"Where's mine?" Dig asked over the comm. Smiling, she glanced up from her cone. Oliver winked, returning the smile.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Dig," Oliver said, his tongue darting out to taste the ice cream.

"Sure," came Diggle's unamused response. "While you guys enjoy your dessert, I'm going to take a lap around the area."

Felicity smiled as she watched Diggle walk away, enjoying the vanilla flavor on her tongue as she took a small bite.

"You never really know how great ice cream is," Oliver said, drawing her attention. "Until you don't have it for five years."

The smile that had formed on her face froze as she watched him. His head was turned in profile. His gaze locked off to the side, watching a group of skateboarders perform their seemingly endless supply of tricks on mundane park equipment. But Felicity couldn't tear her eyes away from his tongue.

It was like he was determined to get as much ice cream as he could with each lick. His tongue extending slowly from his mouth as it licked a wide strip from one side of the scoop to another, curling in at the end to capture as much of the ice cream as possible. Felicity felt her mouth go dry as he continued his ministrations.

He switched the cone to the other hand. His arm moving to rest on the table, his biceps flexing as he turned to look more squarely at the skateboarders. Now his tongue was licking the scoop with small, precise moves; quick then slow, fast then deep. Then he slowed down, licking all the way around the scoop as his hand rotated the cone before taking small, almost teasing bites. Felicity's hand found its way to her neck, suddenly feeling very hot. He grinned, supposedly at something the skateboarders were doing, but Felicity couldn't bring herself to care what, her entire brain zeroed in on his mouth. The ice cream was nearly level with the top of the cone, his tongue taking deep, quick licks to get to it.

Then, with a low chuckle, he dropped his head, his mouth biting the top off the cone and breaking Felicity out of her daze.

Shaking her head to clear the fog, she looked down at her melting cone.

"Wasn't it good?" Oliver asked. She peeked up to see him motioning toward her half melted cone, a smile on his face.

"Yes, it was great," she said, hating the blush on her cheeks. Standing abruptly, the mission forgotten, she gestured toward the bathrooms. "I'll just go clean up this mess. Not that it's a mess. I mean, the ice cream was great. But now I'm all sticky and I'm going to stop talking now."

She ignored Oliver's amused expression as she stormed off, tossing her melted cone into a trash bin on the way. Once inside the dingy, decidedly unclean bathroom, she clicked off her comm, before letting out a breath she hadn't been aware she had been holding. Thankful that there were at least paper towels and a full soap dispenser, Felicity forced herself to clean up. She washed her hands, then sprinkled cold water on her face when she caught her flushed reflection in the mirror.

Shaking her head, she turned her back on the evidence. She closed her eyes, unable to contain the groan that escaped her lips as she thought about Oliver's tongue. She honestly hadn't been aware that an ice cream cone could be so erotic. Or that Oliver's tongue clearly knew its way around one.

It made her wonder what else his tongue knew its way around, certain aspects of the dreaded article about his patented sex moves coming to mind.

"Felicity," Oliver yelled from the other side of the closed door, accompanying it with a sharp knock.

Breathing deep, Felicity pulled open the door to the bathroom to find a smiling, carefree Oliver waiting for her.

"Diggle is making the exchange now," he said. Felicity nodded, clicking her comm back on and forcing her mind back to the mission.

Oliver started off toward the far side of the park, slowing down his normal stride so Felicity could keep up. They slowed even further as they spotted Diggle talking to a seedy looking drug dealer, listening to their conversation over the comm. Deciding that Diggle was trustworthy and had enough money, the drug dealer motioned for him to follow.

Looking for all the world like two friends out for a stroll, Felicity and Oliver casually followed the men through the park. Occasionally stopping to pretend to be interested in a tree or a flowerbed or nothing at all, so long as the man with Diggle kept walking. He led them to the edge of the park, where a several small buildings were. They watched as Diggle disappeared between two of them.

"Now we wait," Felicity said, watching the spot Diggle was last seen. They were there only as backup, in case something went wrong. Five minutes later, Diggle emerged from the alleyway, giving them only the slightest of nods before heading off in the direction of his car. Afraid that Diggle might be watched by the drug dealers, Oliver had insisted they take separate vehicles.

"Let's go," Oliver said, grabbing his comm out of his ear. Wordlessly, she took Oliver's comm, pocketing both as she followed him back through the park where he had parked his car.

Diggle's car was already parked behind Verdant when they arrived. Lost in thought about the tests she would need to run on the drugs Diggle acquired, she didn't notice Oliver stop abruptly before the door to the basement, almost running into him as he turned sharply. Her eyes quickly glanced around the alleyway, sensing nothing that would cause him to be alert.

When she looked up to question him, she gasped, finding his eyes on her. He was looking at her mouth, grinning.

"You have some ice cream," he said, pointing to the corner of his mouth. "Right here."

"Thanks," Felicity muttered, her hand shooting up to rub away the offending cream.

"Nope," he said, his smile growing. "Here let me."

Before she could protest, one of his hands slid around her neck, gently pushing her jaw up with his thumb. His other hand grazed her jawline, before cupping it. His thumb ghosting out over her mouth, causing a small gasp to escape her mouth. Then he leaned in, almost curling around her as his tongue licked in to her slightly parted lips, before his mouth came down to suck ever so sweetly at the corner of her mouth.

He tasted like chocolate.

That was all she needed, too eager to know exactly what his tongue could do. She opened her mouth, sliding her hands around his neck pulling him closer. She moaned as he stepped forward, turning them until he was pressing her into the cold brick wall beside the door as his tongue swept into her mouth. One of her hands combed through the hair on the back of his neck, pulling him in tighter. His stubble tickled and itched slightly as he slanted his mouth over hers, but Felicity couldn't worry about the inevitable abrasion it would cause, not when his tongue was in her mouth, moving with precision. Moaning, she sucked on his tongue delighted to hear Oliver groan against her; she could feel the vibration of it in his chest as he pressed more firmly against her. Breathing became difficult, his hand on her hip moving down and around to cup her ass gently before his hand squeezed harder. She gasped, pulling away from him, surprised by the jolt of pleasure his grip sent through her.

Their lips still just barely touched as they both breathed deep. She tried to clear her head, her hand still gripping the back of his neck, keeping him close. All she could see was Oliver's slightly swollen lips; could feel where his hand still gripped her ass.

"I think I got it," Oliver said, leaning in to place one quick kiss on the corner of her mouth where he had said the ice cream had been; reminding her why this had started in the first place.

"Good," she sighed, reluctantly letting her hands drop away from his body. He took half a second longer, his hands on her neck and ass tightening once more before he stepped back. Felicity continued to lean against the wall, not sure her legs would support her. She licked her lips, could still taste the chocolate on them. She looked up to see Oliver frozen before her, his eyes on her mouth.

He was still within arms' distance, it would only take one of her arms sliding around his shoulder to bring him back in. The look on his face telling her everything she needed to know about what would happen next.

The shrill ring of a phone made the decision for them.

Oliver closed his eyes briefly, before fishing the phone out of his pocket. He looked down at the phone in his hand, a weary smile on his face as he informed her, "Diggle."

"Right," she said, turning to punch the code into the door.

They had a mission to do and it didn't include thinking about how eerily accurate that article had been about his mouth or, more specifically, his tongue.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N - Partition by Beyonce is 100% to blame for this chapter.  
**

* * *

The bass thumped as bodies pressed together in time with the music, slick and wild as the permeating smell of sweat, liquor and sex poured off of them, neon lights flashing. Fog filtered over the dance floor, obscuring the view as it slowly filled the room, allowing touching normally not seen on a public dance floor.

Felicity scanned the crowd, walking the perimeter in search of potential drop locations, trying to ignore the scene before her. The music, combined with the fog had created a bizarre sort of pornographic dance; only encouraged by the DJ as he continued to put down deep, oddly erotic beats.

Glancing up at the VIP section, she caught sight of Diggle watching the crowd too. She could just make out Oliver's back where he faced away from the crowd, a blond tucked under his arm. It was all part of the plan. Oliver had used his name and status to get invited to Verdant's leading competition, the club's owner going out of his way to make Oliver feel welcome in the VIP section, clearly hoping for a merger. Felicity rolled her eyes when she heard the sleazy owner ask Oliver if he would prefer a brunette over the comm, that it could be 'arranged'.

"See anything?" Diggle asked, reminding her of the task at hand. They were there because all their information about the copycat vertigo had told them this was where the drops were taking place. Oliver suspected the club owner to be involved. So while Oliver cozied up with the women being thrown his way, Felicity and Diggle went about looking for the best place a pick up could take place.

"No," she answered back, her eyes returning to the mass of people before her, grinding into each other. "Why do I feel like this whole dance floor is about to turn into an orgy?"

Diggle chuckled and Oliver's voice faltered as he assured the club owner that he didn't want another drink.

"Stay focused," Diggle said, she looked up to see him smiling. "Check underneath the DJ booth?"

"On it," she said, squaring her shoulder before moving on to the dance floor. Hands grabbed at her, pulling her toward unknown bodies. She quickly learned walking wasn't going to do it.

Pulling on that semester in Barcelona, she dipped, grinding into the person behind her, before sliding onto the next. It was slower, but at least she was getting through, slinking her way through the thrum of sweating bodies. The fog created an illusion of being alone, allowing her to take a moment to give into the music.

Someone pulled her back into them, the man was taller than she, whispering unknown French words in her ear. His hand slid from her hip down to the hem of her dress, barely sliding under, his thumb dangerously close to a spot she knew would throw her out of the mission completely. She giggled, slipping from his grasp as the lights above flashed to the beat. The bass was vibrating through her entire body by the time she reached the DJ booth.

"Nothing here," she said, dipping slightly to look under the platform. When she didn't get a response, she looked up at the VIP area. Diggle was gone, in his place stood Oliver.

He was staring directly down at her, his hands braced on the railing, the blond that had been hanging on him nowhere in sight. He didn't move, just stared at her.

"Got it," Diggle's voice yelled through the comm. "It was next to the bar. I don't want to wait around for this orgy to start. I'm going to take this to Detective Lance. Your backup driver is waiting outside when you're ready, Oliver. You want a ride home, Felicity?"

"Yea—"

"No," Oliver's voice cut her off over the comm. He hadn't stopped staring at her and even through the haze of the fog and distance, she could see he was tense. "I'll make sure she gets home."

"Okay," Diggle said, his comm cutting out.

Felicity couldn't take her eyes off Oliver. Slowly, he reached up, pulling his comm from his ear as she heard it click off. She mirrored his movements, keeping her eyes on him as she slid the comm down the front of dress, secured in the cup of her bra. He held her gaze just long enough to make her squirm, before he turned his back on her.

Not sure she knew what was going on, she took a shaky breathe. Things were heating up on the dance floor. The fog now reached the shoulders of the crowd as they surged together, the only movements visible leaving her in no doubt that far more than dancing was going on beneath the cover of the fog. She momentarily thought about joining back in, but her pulse was already accelerated, her body overheated from Oliver's stare.

They had resolutely not talked about the kiss outside of Verdant. Both of them acting as if there hadn't been a dynamic shift in their relationship. Felicity wanted to blame the article and website about Oliver's sex life, but knew it was more than that. If she was really honest with herself, she would admit the change had been coming for a while, building since the first time they met; just waiting for the scales to be tipped.

Slinking around the edge of the dance floor until she reached the bar, she pulled herself forward, trying to signal the bartender. There were two bartenders working, both men. She caught the eye of one, shifting her body so her cleavage rested on her arm. His eyes zeroed in on her and Felicity couldn't help but smile at the knowledge that the trick still worked.

"Vodka Martini," she yelled when the bartender approached.

"Make that two," came Oliver's voice from behind her. He slid in next to her, his elbow resting on the bar as his other hand came to rest on the small of her back. She didn't acknowledge him, watching as the bartender recognized Oliver, suddenly moving quicker to make their drinks.

"Put it on my tab," Oliver yelled over the music as the bartender set down their drinks. The man nodded, risking one last look at Felicity's cleavage before turning to help the next customer. Oliver's hand shifted from her back to her hip, pulling her into him as he watched the bartender walk away.

Felicity grabbed her drink, feeling slightly emboldened she turned in to him. Her heels put her eye level with his Adam's apple. She took a sip of her drink, not looking up at his face, enjoying the way the cords of his neck tightened as he drank. He wasn't wearing a tie, his shirt unbuttoned to reveal the full length of his neck.

Licking her lips, she leaned back a little to see he was already looking down at her. His hand on her hip pulling her up against his body as his head dropped to the side. She closed her eyes, expecting to feel his mouth on her shoulder as the smell of his cologne engulfed her. Instead she felt his nose trail up the column of her neck, nuzzling her ear before he moved his mouth to her ear; his breath on her inner ear hot, sending a shiver down her spine.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice barely registering over the music. Her pulse quickened as her brain became hazy at his closeness. The ambiguity of the question causing her to lick her lips in anticipation. She looked up as he pulled back, his eyelids were heavy, giving him an intensity Felicity hadn't seen before. He raised one eyebrow, reminding her he had asked a question.

Swallowing, she nodded, not really sure what she was agreeing to. His eyes only darkened as he nodded once, grabbing her hand to pull her behind him. They went through the backdoor, a heavily tinted limousine waiting for them. Normally, Oliver would have protested, preferring town cars to the ostentatious limo; but he said nothing, surprising Felicity a little. He let her slide in first as he greeted the driver holding open the door.

He didn't look at her after he slid in beside her, moving forward to hit a button on the roof. Felicity watched as the partition between the driver and the back went up, not noticing Oliver fiddling with the radio until music filled the car, suggestive lyrics and beats meeting her ears. Oliver shifted back in the seat, suddenly much closer to her as he angled his body to face her. One of his hands was braced on the seat next to her ear, while the other fell on her shoulder, effectively trapping her as he leaned in.

Neither of them said anything, the music loud but heady as his hand slid down her arm, not stopping until it reached her thigh, coming to rest when it met bare skin just below where the hem of her dress lay. Felicity squirmed, her eyes focused on his large hand as his thumb drew casual circles on her inner thigh. Unable to help it, she rubbed her thighs together, the movement bringing Oliver's hand just slightly under her dress. She let out a low exhale, looking up to see Oliver's attention concentrated on where his hand rested on her thigh. Then he turned to look at her, his chest rising and falling faster than usual, his eyes meeting hers as his mouth quirked up in a small smile that had her rubbing her knees together.

Noticing her motion, he leaned in, once again letting his stubble rub across her cheek as he sought her ear. She gasped, when instead of speaking, his mouth closed on the spot just below her earlobe, sucking lightly. The low rumble of his laughter at her reaction distracted her for a second, leaving her ready to push him away if he was just going to play games. But then the hand on her thigh moved, pushing up under the hem of her dress; his long fingers coming to rest on the lace of her underwear at her hip as his thumb settled in to the crease where her thigh met her body.

She moaned, wanting more, sliding forward in the seat so that his thumb rested where she needed it. She could feel him smiling into her neck as his thumb brushed over her underwear, finding her wet.

"Oliver," she breathed out as his thumb pushed into her, annoyed that fabric was in the way. His movement stilled as he pulled back to look at her, she stared back at him, his eyes heavy with want; the look only managed to increase the want between her legs to almost uncomfortable level. Whatever he saw in her face must have convinced him of something. He moved back from her, causing her to groan in disappointment as his hand slipped from underneath her dress.

But then he was grabbing her hips, pulling her forward, twisting her around until he pulled her back against him, settling her on his lap. With her back flush against his chest, she could feel the muscles of his torso as his arms slipped underneath hers to rest his hands on her knees pulling them apart gently. His mouth dropped to her shoulder, transfixed by his hands slowly pulling the skirt of her dress up, revealing black lace underwear. He stopped for a moment to appreciate the view, before his long fingers began to dance lightly over the edge of her panties.

"Felicity," he whispered, sending a shiver down her spine. She moaned, arching herself forward slightly, her ass meeting the unmistakable feel of his erection as she leaned her head back against his shoulder, focusing on the roof of the car. His hand slipped into her underwear until he was cupping her, his fingers only applying the slightest bit of pressure as he spoke again, his tone dark, heavy barely audible over the bass of the music, "What's the verdict?"

"Verdict?" Felicity squeaked, confused then distracted as he ran one long finger up her slit, barely dipping into her wetness before stopping to rub circles on her clit.

"The shoulder touching? My body? My mouth?" He asked, punctuating each question with a nip at her earlobe. She moaned as his fingers moved their attention to her slit, one finger parting her so another finger could dip inside. She bit down on her cheek as he slanted his hand so his thumb worked on her while he added another finger inside her. With agonizing slowness he started moving his long fingers; in, out, in, out. He growled in her ear when she hummed at the feeling. "My hands? Have they proven themselves?"

"Hands?" Felicity questioned, her entire mind focused on the building of energy in her body, his hand working her into a lather. He curled his fingers inside of her and she gripped Oliver's knees to prevent herself from yelling at the sudden feeling. The music was loud, but she was all too mindful of being in the back of a limousine, the driver on the other side of the far-from-soundproof partition.

"What's your verdict?" he growled, increasing the speed of his fingers as they pumped in and out of her. The cockiness in his voice causing her to focus on his words as he continued speaking. "Shoulder touches, my body, my mouth, my hands? Are they sex moves or just ways I turn you on?"

She groaned then, his thumb pressing harder into her with quick tight circles hitting the exact spot she knew would send her over the edge. She slid her hands on his knees back, gripping his thighs tightly as she arched against him, reaching her climax; unable to stop herself from crying his name.

He worked her through her orgasm, placing kisses on her shoulder as she came down; falling bonelessly back into him as her breath evened out. She brought her head up from his shoulder to see his large hand still buried in her underwear cupping her.

"Wow," Felicity sighed at the sight before her. "That was…wow, that was…"

"Hot." Oliver supplied, his hand in her underwear clenching slightly into her still sensitive sex, causing her to hum in agreement. With his free hand he turned off the music, leaving them in blissful silence and in no hurry to disentangle themselves from each other.

She dropped her head back to his shoulder, his stubble nuzzling into her temple as she began to process what had just happened. Through the haze of the club and the effects of the sultry music, the words he had whispered in her ear finally beginning to fall into place. Memories came crashing together: the stupid "Oliver Queen's Top 5 Sex Moves" article, her ramblings after reading it and his behavior over the last couple of weeks, the shoulder touches, pressing his half naked body against her after the incident at the pool, his meticulous way of eating an ice cream cone.

He had done it on purpose. He's been using his 'moves' on her.

"Wait," she said, sitting up and twisting in the seat so she could look at him, the movement pulling his hand from her underwear. "You've been doing it on purpose? Even the ice cream cone?"

"Well, you doubted my moves," he shrugged, grinning back at her, every inch the billionaire playboy the website had claimed him to be.

"All of it," she said, a weight settling on her chest as she motioned between them. "Was to prove to me your moves worked?"

"Hey, no," he said, his tone soft and gentle as he sat up to cup her face with both his hands, clearly having sensed her disappointment. As his thumb rubbed on her cheek bone she caught a whiff of herself still on his skin. She closed her eyes, humiliation flooding her face. "Felicity, I decided a long time ago I was sick of waiting for my life to calm down in order to be with you. But I had spent so much time pushing you away, I wasn't sure how to go about it. I could tell the article had gotten to you, so I thought it might be just what we needed."

As he spoke, she opened her eyes, mesmerized by the sincerity in his voice.

"It wasn't a game," he said with a small smile, silently pleading with his eyes for her to see that. Smiling back, she nodded the weight no longer on her chest, replaced with an indescribable lightness. He let a huff of a laugh, leaning in to place a quick kiss to her mouth before pulling back, a smirk on his face. "But if it was a game and I think I won."

"It can't be a game if I didn't know we were playing," Felicity replied, mildly annoyed. "And you haven't proven anything yet."

"Your orgasm would say otherwise," he said, with a cocky raise of his eyebrow.

Ignoring him and the blush on her face, she placed her hands on his chest, rubbing them up until she reached his shoulders. She pulled herself forward, re-arranging her legs until she was straddling him. Placing short, soft kisses along his jawline until she reached his ear, where she took his earlobe into her mouth with her teeth. His hand found its way to her thigh, squeezing it in appreciation.

"You can't prove anything until I've experienced all five moves," she whispered into his ear. "And I've only seen four."

"Right," Oliver moaned, distracted as she ground down into his erection. "What was the fifth again?"

She smiled against his neck as her hands began to unbutton his shirt.

"Stamina."


	6. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE**

* * *

Oliver Queen is ready for anything life throws his way. He survived five years on Lian Yu, so saving Starling City shouldn't be a problem. He's got his orders, knock off everyone on the list, and nothing is going to get in his way.

Nothing, that is, until Felicity Smoak so completely throws him off his axis that the entire gravitational pull of his life is thrown off course. He doesn't see it right away; too blinded by vengeance, lost love and reclaiming a life he no longer wanted. But when he does finally pull his head out of his ass long enough to take a good look around, all he sees is Felicity.

And really, who can blame him? She's smart, makes him laugh and isn't afraid to tell him when he is 'oh so wrong.' She's the only one in his crazy, mixed up life who sees the real Oliver and he can't think of anything more prize worthy than that. On top of all that, she's fucking hot. With an ass he's stared at for days, breasts that take the most extreme concentration to ignore and hair he wants to bury his face in; he wants her, plain and simple

But it isn't simple. Yada, yada, yada; his life is too dangerous, no one around him is safe and it's better if they both keep their distance. Except the excuse starts to fall flat even to his own ears. Because he already cares about her—she's already so deeply entrenched in his life it would take the jaws of life to remove her, and he is fucking tired of watching his second chance at life go by.

So when the article about his 'best sex moves' is released on the internet for everyone and their sister to read, who can blame him for using it to his advantage? He'd been trying to figure out the best way to go about saying "Hey Felicity, I'm in love with you. Want to give us a shot?" for months and her doubt over whether or not his 'moves' worked is all the window he needs.

And it works, of course it does, he congratulates himself on a well executed plan. The best part being that he's happy, well and truly happy, for the first time since he left the island. He spends his days as Oliver Queen, CEO; his nights as Arrow, Starling City's very own vigilante; and any free time he has, as Felicity Smoak's boyfriend.

All in all, things are looking up.

Except, of course, when an unlucky series of events means it has been eleven whole days since he last found himself staring up at her in awe as she grips his headboard to get the perfect angle, grinding down onto him until he's calling her name. First it had been her mother's unexpected visit, then it has been a particularly vicious criminal dressed in a gorilla suit calling himself Grodd, followed up with an increased number of board meetings due to a new investment opportunity. He's pretty sure that's why Isabel is in his office today; something about capital or contracts, he can't be sure.

Because Felicity is sitting at her desk on the other side of the glass wall, enjoying a lollipop, and his mind has gone completely blank as all the blood in his body seems to rush to his groin.

It should be illegal, the way she is eating it. Her cheeks hollowed as her throat works to suck up the flavor; her tongue occasionally curling out around the hard candy to bring it into her mouth as her eyes close in pleasure over the taste.

It's obscene, bordering on pornographic.

And Oliver wants nothing more than to drag her into his private bathroom so he can discover what flavor she's enjoying so thoroughly. He isn't sure how he manages to nod and hum along to everything Isabel says while simultaneously deciding he and his assistant deserve the afternoon off, but he must pull it off because Isabel seems satisfied about the conclusions they've reached.

But before he can put his detailed scheme for some afternoon delight into action some idiot calling himself the Clock King starts blowing up buildings in Starling, effectively derailing his is why he forgives himself that night for getting a little distracted from the mission as they wait for Felicity's programs to do their magic.

Felicity is bent over her desk in the foundry with her ankles crossed, her ass swaying a little in a tight skirt that leaves his mouth watering. Dig is standing next to her, pointing out something on one of the screens causing her to drop to her elbows as she reads it, her legs uncrossing to steady herself; just a small nudge with his feet and she would be in the perfect position for him to—

"I think we got him," Dig says, thankfully cutting off Oliver's thought process; allowing him to refocus on the mission.

Taking down William Tockman is a long, intellectually taxing fight that leaves all three members of the team exhausted. Oliver isn't the least surprised to receive a text from Felicity explaining she was heading home to get a good nights sleep; begrudgingly agreeing with her as his adrenaline wears off while he stores his gear. He doesn't really remember the drive back to the mansion or falling into bed, only that his last thought before drifting off was wishing his bed wasn't so empty.

The following day isn't much better, his entire morning booked to go over the quarterly reports with half the accounting department. They're all beaming up at him as they explain how great the company is doing, completely oblivious to the way Felicity is stretching at her desk behind them.

Her hand is rubbing at the base of her neck, her ponytail falling to the side as she tilts her head to rub harder at the muscle, exposing the long curve of the back of her neck. His fingers drum impatiently on his desk, wanting to replace her hand with his, to massage her neck until all the tension leaves her. Then she's rolling her shoulders back, pushing her breasts out as her head drops back, her mouth falling open as her eyes close.

"Fuck," Oliver sighs, his head falling forward as image after image invades his mind of Felicity arching up into him exactly like that, her fingers digging into his back as she climaxes.

When he finally gets control of his mind, he looks up to see the people before him exchanging concerned looks. He smiles apologetically before motioning with his hand that they should continue; deciding that the glass wall had been a horrible idea and would have to go if he hoped to get any work done ever again.

By the time the accounting department is done telling him exactly how much the company has earned, it's late in the day and Felicity is missing. A post-it note on her desk informing him she's off with Thea getting her hair done, 'don't tell me you forgot about your mother's gala tonight,' and she'll meet him there, signed with a smiley face.

Knowing there isn't a chance of ripping her away from Thea's side, he heads to the foundry, taking his frustration out on a training dummy; not stopping until he's drenched in sweat and convinced he can make it through the evening without dragging Felicity off to the nearest dark corner.

His resolve, however, is tested severely as Felicity emerges from Thea's room in a dress that nearly has him sagging against the wall for support. It's deep red, tight, with a slit that's a few inches shy of being indecent.

"You like it?" She asks innocently, turning to the side to show him the dress is backless. He snorts, grabbing her hand to pull her down the hallway to his room, but then Thea is there, standing in front of him, pushing them both back toward the stairs and their waiting mother.

Oliver decides he can last at least two hours; two hours of his hand on her bare back rubbing circles on her spine with his thumb. Two hours of mindless conversation as his brain begins to index the various positions he's planning on getting them into that night; wondering if tonight is the night he can convince her sex against a window doesn't really make you an exhibitionist if you're on private property. Two hours of ignoring the way she smells, her soft skin and her unavoidable inadvertent sexual innuendoes. And he thinks he does a pretty good job, even managing to have a little fun.

That is until Felicity pulls him out to the dance floor; his finger's tightening as he realizes he can't feel the lines of her panties where his hand clutches her hip. He pulls back to look at her, ready to ask if she is actually trying to kill him; when she shrugs.

"Didn't work with the dress," she says with the smallest of smiles, a glint in her eye that is undeniable.

No force in the world could have stopped him from pulling her into his side, dragging her off the dance floor, away from the room, and up the stairs. They're almost to the top when she puts a hand on his chest, stopping him, as she climbs the last stair onto the landing, bringing her eye level with him. She moves her hands to his shoulder, her eyebrows raised in undisputed glee.

"So what's the verdict?" She asks, swatting away his hands that had been moving toward her waist.

"Verdict?" He asks, confused.

"Lollipops? Bending over? Inappropriate stretching in my office chair? Going commando?" She asks, leaning in a little closer with each question. He can only stare back, his mind sluggishly putting together what she is saying. "Are they my best sex moves or just ways I turn you on, Oliver Queen?"

He grits his teeth, bending down to throw her over his shoulder in one fell swoop as she laughs. He practically runs to his room, his long strides eating up the distance between them and his bed in record time as she just keeps giggling, not even attempting to convince him to put her down.

He takes half a second to make sure the door is locked, because he is not about to be interrupted, before throwing her down on the bed with a little more force than he intended. She's still laughing, her hair fanned out around her as her breasts bounce with the movement. He's lost, his eyes fixated on how she looks laid out before him.

"Revenge is sweet," she says, with a quirk of her eyebrow and that's all he needs.

His hand shoots out, pulling her up from the bed. Ignoring her gasp he turns her around, pushing on her shoulder until she's bent over, her hands resting on the bed to support her. He doesn't bother taking off the dress, just bunches it up over her hips; his fingers smoothing down the curve of her bare ass, before dipping into her, not at all surprised to find her already wet. She groans, pushing back against his fingers and somehow it makes him even harder, knowing that playing with him had also turned her on.

"Oliver," she says, her tone final and indisputable; she's done waiting. He grits his teeth again, barely keeping it together; because his name on her lips is an aphrodisiac he hadn't known existed until he met her.

Not bothering to undress, he undoes his pants just enough to free his cock; stroking himself as he moves forward, his eyes glazing over as he comes in contact with her smooth skin. Then he's pushing into her without hesitation, a shudder running through both their bodies. Felicity's shoulders drop a little as he fills her, his arm moving around her stomach to keep her standing as he starts to pull out before pushing back in again to find a rhythm; a rhythm that has them both panting. He can't help but smile at the way her fingers grip the edge of the bed, knowing he's hitting that elusive spot she loves so much; not relenting until she throws her head back as the first wave of satisfaction hits her.

Normally he would have taken a moment to preen over how quickly she comes, but she's clenching so tightly around his cock that it almost finishes him. His body and mind too busy trying to regain control to even so much as raise an eyebrow. He waits until she's steady again before stepping back. His hands moving to undress himself as she collapses on to the bed in a boneless heap.

"Take off that dress," he grunts, ripping the buttons of his shirt in his haste. With what looks to be herculean effort, she turns to sit on the edge of the bed, giving him a lazy smile as her hands reach down to pull the dress over her head. He has to close his eyes to steady himself, to force himself to continue to undress, wondering if he will ever get enough of her naked body.

He kicks away his pants as she pulls him between her knees, her hand wrapping around his dick with practiced precision; her head dropping to lick up the underside. He grits his teeth as she reaches the tip, her head dipping, mouth opening to take him in, her cheeks hollowing as she sucks.

"Felicity," he moans, because the suction is all he'd been dreaming about, the pressure faultless. She shifts a little, trying to pull her legs underneath her to get a better angle and he knows he has to stop her before he loses control. His hand combs through her hair as he pushes her head back. She follows his lead, letting his cock drop from her mouth with one last lick of her tongue.

And he would swear in any court of law, that she is the most gorgeous fucking thing he's ever seen in his entire life. Nothing on the planet even comes close to the beauty that is before him, looking up at him with a heady mix of adoration and lust that makes his whole world stop spinning.

All his plans of seduction and various positions disappear because this is Felicity and he doesn't need plans with her. They come together in a way that defies logic and sense, communicating without saying a word. He doesn't need to make this last, because he has all night; they have all night. Fuck it, he wants them to have their whole life.

He knows she senses the change, the shift in his energy, from the way she murmurs his name against his lips as he curls over her, his hands on either side of her head holding on tightly as he kisses her, hoping she can once again read his mind.

She pulls him back onto the bed, never breaking the kiss as she spreads her legs for him, her hand guiding him to her. It isn't until her hips shift and he slides into her that he breaks the kiss. His mouth falling to her collarbone as he begins to move in her again, resting his weight on his forearms; no real rhythm, just raw friction. Beautiful friction, combined with the small huffs of air she releases each time he thrusts into her is all he will ever need to be happy. He closes his eyes, moaning incoherently as he gives over to the inevitable.

"Oliver," she can barely get his name out, hardly a whisper against his ear as she shifts her knee up higher on his side. He can feel her release coming, feel it begin around his cock as he increases his speed until they both fall apart together.

Later, in the wee hours of the morning, as she's laying on her stomach, sleepy and sated, her face turned to rest on her hands so she can look up at him as he traces a finger along the indentation of her spine, he tells her the truth. While lollipops, bending over, inappropriate office stretching and going commando are all wonderful ways to get his attention, the only move she will ever need to turn him on is saying his name.

* * *

_**A/N: And we're done! Thank you so much for all the reviews/favorites/follows! I was really nervous about posting this story, so I'm happy to know I didn't scare everyone off.**_

_**Thanks to SigilBroken for watching Arrow, beta-ing my shit and grabbing the wine when I had my meltdown. You're the best.**_

_**And special thanks to quisinart4 for pointing out to me that there should really be more fic about how Felicity turns Oliver on, thus inspiring this last chapter.**_


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